Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
vic May 2018
did you watch the news?
she was beautiful, wasn't she!
they were so nice and wonderful!
it made me cry, seeing them!

the royal wedding?
no.
- the ten that lost their lives in the Santa Fe High School shooting last Friday. thoughts and prayers won't do it anymore. come on America.
504 · Mar 2018
sacred 17
vic Mar 2018
we are not gathered here in memory
of the 17 who lost their beautiful smiles
and laughs and futures to your
precious laws that may have applied to the seventeen hundreds
but now? we don't need these machines
this danger.

we don't need this fear inside of us
the feeling of being stalked
in the hallways of the same building you
previously walked before without a second thought
but now it could happen. and it's more real than
ever before.

those 17 could have been me and
my friends and peers. they were a mere drive away from
that place i go everyday where i see the people
i love. to know that one day they could be on the floor
next to my desk or my still
lifeless
body.

that terrifies me.

tell me, how are you not
terrified? how does it not scare you, that your
next wave of voters are terrified of your inability to act after
the nightmare that became our reality.

we are gathered here to tell you that
we
demand
change.
298 · Feb 2018
the unthinkable it
vic Feb 2018
it's something new this time
or at least it always is.

maybe it's just the same thing
with a blanket wrapped around its head
hiding in the dark corners of my mind.

i am scared to pull the blanket away
afraid of what my mind hides from me.

i want you to do it for me
but i don't know how to explain this something
that i can't even name.
243 · Feb 2018
soft violence
vic Feb 2018
these feelings are so
violent and angry
they're spewing out of my mouth
and into yours,
like that night in the alley
just past one when nothing
feels real anymore and the only people to keep
me company are long gone
so I merely fill up the empty corners
where they used to reside with your body,
keeping their seats warm.
warm like my cheeks red with the rage
of a thousand suns on my back
when we used to lay together until
I rolled over only to find
my back had been burned with your
sneaking and sleeping around
with women who would never appreciate
the ferocity of your love
and the violence of your soft hands
as I pulled away desperate for
some space to breath for this heat
is taking up so much of this god awful apartment
where I learned how to love
and how to transcribe this disgusting feeling
into a murky hatred for your
raging heart.

— The End —